The Last Flight

'I should have taken up singing professionally and been the singer I always dreamt to be.' Captain Rakesh sighed to himself. The raag, the sargam, the avirbhav, the sadhana.

Ah, the epitome of musical sublimity!

"Kripaya dhyan dijiye, aapke saaman upar saaman kaksh me rakh dijiye."(Please pay attention, keep your luggage in the luggage section above) the words of the senior flight purser thus fainted in his ears.

Rakesh looked outside the broad glass pane. It was a beautiful morning. The golden hues of the sun rays kissed the melting snow of the Kanchenjunga in Darjeeling. It was ethereal.

It was his last flight from Mumbai to the Bagdogra Airport as the chief pilot of the flight. It was also the umpteenth flight that he took with the same feeling of despair of not being a singer that he could be. Before the floods of memories could overwhelm him, Captain Rakesh pushed the lever forward and started the engine of the Boeing A547 with the assistance of his second in-flight pilot. After taxing for about a minute or so on the runway, a soulful yesteryear song sung by Kishore Kumar started playing. No. It wasn't the radio. It wasn't any loud speaker either. It was the Captain. He closed his eyes.

They were so happy. It was one of his finest performances of his ten year old small life. Ma and Baba, as he fondly used to call them, were very proud of his performance at the 17th National Annual Singing competition held in the erstwhile Bombay in association with Zee Cine groups. Rakesh had secured 1st position and the award was handed over by the singing legend Kishore Kumar himself. Ecstatic, he ran across the dais to hug his Ma. His Ma was also very elated. Baba, like many others was not very expressive. Nevertheless, he was proud of the prodigy his son was coming of age.

The take-off lever of the Boeing A547 was pulled back with an ease which was no less that the early morning sadhanas that he would engage with Pandit Mohandas, his father. And before you knew, the 8th note of the octave of the childhood Raag Bhairav was reached effortlessly and the mountains was soon a mere speck in the eyes of all air passengers. Such was the dual mastery.

His Baba had taken him to Bombay all the way from Bagdogra to fulfill his dream. He did not let them down. Now with his dream fulfilled, Pt. Mohandas was a satisfied man. He now could go back to concentrate on his tea garden. A place where he grew the best in business oolong Darjeeling tea and hear his son to sing his way to fame.

Somewhere someone in the airlines industry was busy analyzing the air traffic data. He came upon a startling fact. Bagdogra was the most dangerous airport in India and one of the most fearful in the whole world. Many would fake illness to avoid the route. Accidents had claimed many lives there. Yet, the track record of Captain Rakesh was spotless.

The organizers had messed up the travel itinerary. Pt Mohandas and his wife were to travel back to Darjeeling the same day. But for some stupid mistake of the booking officer Rakesh was given the ticket for the day after.

"Baba, why do we need to go by flight? I mean, wouldn't train have been a better option? We could enjoy our time together along with the scenic beauty of the entire journey."

The ten year old was counting reasons to travel by train. He tried his best to hide his feelings that he was scared to travel by air. It was too intimidating for the poor soul. However, the request-turned-pleading fell to deaf ears. Pt. had made up his mind already. Rakesh was already sad that he would have to travel all by himself. The grief of bidding goodbye to his parents at the airport had overshadowed his fear to travel alone. It was the last time he thought he would be leaving his Ma and Baba alone. His thoughts soon became a harsh reality. The flight crashed into the mountains while it was on its descent. All the 182 passengers and 8 cabin crew members had died.

"This is your captain Rakesh. We would shortly be landing at the Bagdogra airport. The temperature outside is 15°C. Cabin crew, prepare for landing. We wish you a pleasant stay in Darjeeling." His voice boomed through the speakers.

"Sir, I have been accompanying you for the last three years as your second in-flight pilot. I have noticed something very unique about you. Every time we come to Bagdogra, your face glows up. You start singing the same song every single time. Eyes closed. The hands operate the levers as if they were operating some musical instrument." The second in-flight pilot mused.

A smile cut across Captain Rakesh's face. Darjeeling never looked so beautiful. Ever.